She dreaded living off the land again, like an animal, as she had done for dozens of years at a stretch. Aware of the footman hovering, and the hackney coachman’s curious eyes looking down from his box, Gerald leaned a little towards her and spoke in a lowered tone. What was the wench at? Yet he could not maintain this stand off forever. Sheppard, with an agonized look at Wood. Her amusement fled and she stared at him, as a slow thump began beating at her breast. Wood, carving for his friends, and pledging the carpenter, he had his hands full. Wild," he added, laughing, "it must be a stronger prison than Willesden cage that can hold me.
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